


The Twelve Elephants in the Room

by Toxic_Waste



Series: AOTFFS Continuity Divergence [1]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, One Shot, Phindace, Sibling Incest, Size Difference, Unusual Relationship Dynamics, Vore, or something similar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 08:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15433074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toxic_Waste/pseuds/Toxic_Waste
Summary: Sometimes life passes by a little bit at a time, and other times it moves in great leaps and bounds, covering tremendous distances in a single stride.Come to think of it, this rather reminds Phineas of someone else he knows.





	The Twelve Elephants in the Room

Phineas had never been one much inclined to quiet introspection, not in the grand scheme of things, at least. Still, every now and again, when there wasn’t much to do but sit back quietly in darkness while waiting for his sister, he sometimes let his thoughts carry him away – oft to fantastic and faraway palaces of imagination.

Not always, though.

He wasn’t sure why today wasn’t one of those days, not really. Earlier in the afternoon, Candace had dropped some comment about it having been so many years since she’d grown up, and how different she’d become since those now seemingly distant years of her childhood. He honestly couldn’t remember what the context had been – not really – but it wasn’t the context that had stuck with him even after the conversation had been dropped.

Shifting slightly to a more comfortable position on the softness beneath him, he chuckled under his breath. It really was ironic, wasn’t it? He’d always been the ‘assertive’ one as a child, and though Candace certainly hadn’t had any _shortage_ of energy, he’d still been the… the outgoing one? In a way – in most ways, even. Candace had had her friends, of course, but they both knew that it was still much harder for her to make and maintain those friendships. Candace was energetic, but he was the extroverted one, the one who’d never had too much an issue with any of the things that had once given her so much pause.

One thing he’d never really considered, especially not back _then_ , was the idea that he’d be content to grow up and live in someone else’s shadow, but that had kinda happened anyway, hadn’t it? Candace… she wasn’t a kid anymore. And neither was he, of course, but she cast a pretty big shadow, much more so than he felt he ever could – and yet it wasn’t something he could say he was particularly _opposed_ to, either.

It was only fair to expect some things to change as you grew up. And he’d grown up, too, but was hard pressed to name any specific major thing that had changed about _himself_. Maybe that was how things worked, though. These things were always harder to spot in yourself, after all. He _felt_ like he hadn’t changed all that much, but supposed that maybe he had more than he realized. He’d have to ask his sister about it at some point.

His sister – Candace, though. It was easy to see how _she’d_ changed, in a big way. And it wasn’t a bad thing, either. She was so much more _confident_ in herself now, much more than she used to be – probably a natural consequence of being so far removed from the fragility and weakness of her child – but still amazing to see. At the same time, too, she’d become much more careful with things, too. That too was partly from necessity, as moving into adulthood – growing up into a position of far greater power than her child self possessed – had granted even the tiniest of her actions major repercussions.

Just because the _motivation_ for such developments had been from a need, though, didn’t mean it still wasn’t good. It was! Heck, he was able to look up to her now. And he always _had_ , in some way, but now it felt so much more real, so much more literal than it once had.

When she felt like getting something for herself, there was not nearly as much stalling and balking as there had once been. No matter how big or impossible whatever it was seemed, she’d become the first one to grab ahold of it with both hands and take the weight on her own shoulders.

Even when it was things that Phineas himself knew he’d never be able to bear up beneath their weight alone, still she managed it – and with an almost effortless sort of grace, too.

He’d always looked up to his sister, even long ago in their childhood, when the two of them had been nothing more than little children having fun and growing up together, not yet having even a clue of the monumental events that still waited for them in the future – in the process of growing up.

It hadn’t taken as long as one might’ve expected – the growing up – almost feeling as if he’d looked away one moment, and when he looked back, she’d become his big sister in a whole new way, a way that he’d certainly never  _expected…_ but a way that he’d never want to lose, either.

He hadn’t thought of it much before now, but he _depended_ on her now – and to a much more frequent and great extent than he had before. He’d always been willing to trust her with his life, if it came down to that, but now it was as if he was perfectly comfortable putting that life of his directly into the palm of her hands. And he was – she’d never hurt him, and of that he was perfectly confident.

That wasn’t to say she was _perfect_ , no, even Phineas could see that wasn’t the case. But the elephant in the room was that he wasn’t sure he’d have _wanted_ that anyway. Despite the way she towered over him when it came to such things as interacting with the world outside his blueprints and inventions, there were still mistakes and screw-ups, flaws and failures.

And how could there not be? Mistakes were a natural part of life, whether grown or small, adult or child. He felt it would be unfair to _not_ acknowledge that, and yet, it failed to detract in even the smallest way from his estimation of her in his mind.

Maybe it was way – or part of the reason why – it had ultimately come to this in the first place. Growing up was hard – no one had ever claimed it wasn’t. It’d been a bumpy road, full of Candace’s tears running down his back and raw despair shining in her eyes. He’d hardly been the most mature of children himself, and yet, seeing all that – and it _had_ been easy to see, even for one such as he – it had somehow changed something inside him.

He’d determined to be there for her, no matter what, if at all possible, to help dig her out of the giant-sized rut she was burying herself in. In a way, even though he was – and would always be – the little brother, watching her grow up before had somehow pulled him through it, too – pulled him along with her, because almost above all, he had always loved his big sister, even when she hadn’t been _so_ big compared to her.

Of course, there’s still a large leap between loving one’s big sister and _marrying_ her. It was a leap he’d been ready to take, when the time had come to take it, though. And he knew – they both knew – the myriads of reasons that would be stacked against their union by others, but they hadn’t let any of those things stop them. Why should they? Why should he? He loved her with all his heart – and next to her, even the biggest of problems seemed to contract into nothingness, even the loudest of complainants seemed to shrink until they could be quashed beneath a single thumb.

In retrospect, being classified as "unnatural" had probably helped with that - despite the news getting out, as it would, the only intervention they'd ever suffered from legal meddling had been the arrival of some furry animal in a fedora at their front door, one that promptly fled upon seeing Candace open said door, and had never returned since.

It couldn’t be done, they said. (And they still said it.) But Phineas and Candace – they’d done it anyway. Done it because they loved each other, because they wanted each other, in ways that _included_ that sibling relationship he still held dearly to himself, but were no longer _limited_ to fraternal fascination alone.

In an almost ironic twist, he, the boy who’d never have been content to remain in someone else’s shadow for too long, had committed to spending his life under one of the biggest and darkest of shadows to be found in nature – the one his sister cast over him.

But it wasn’t frustrating or irritating or limiting, he’d found. It was warm, and cozy, and invited him to recline comfortably beneath its protective shade. He _could_ leave, technically, if he’d wanted to. There were lots of things he could’ve done ‘technically’.

He’d never do any of them, though – and certainly never _leave_ his sister. More than anything else in the world, he’d discovered that she (like so many other people) needed someone unafraid, someone dependable, someone to comfort her when the responsibilities of being big seemed to loom even bigger.

She needed him. Or rather – and even more thrilling to think about – she _wanted_ him, to do just that. The thought always brought a surge of warmth up in his gut whenever it occurred to him. They’d been married – because, just as much as he loved and desired her, she loved and desired _him_ , too, despite all the obstacles that might seem to threaten such desires. It was a fact that he never wanted to let go of, as long as he lived.

The birth of their son had only strengthened that commitment. Xavier was – well, his birth _alone_ had been a medical miracle, due to Phineas’ extremely small measurements in the relevant areas of his body – but he was many, many other things, too. A child produced when it had seemed all but impossible for even conception to have taken place at all, someone Phineas loved more than he had ever thought was _possible_ for someone who wasn’t his sister.

Life wasn’t perfect, no – and adulthood rarely was. But he wouldn’t have wanted it to be perfect anyway. He wanted it to be _this_ way – him, his big sister (and his wife), and their little boy. Their big house out in a remotely rural area on the very outskirts of the Tri-State Area, a yard practically big enough to pitch tents for an army in (perfect for cool inventions and projects), and above all, a family.

_Their_ family. It wasn’t a big family in number, but in all the important ways, the ways that, at the end of the day, counted for the most in life, was the biggest family around.

Something shifted beneath him, and a warm liquid oozed down from above onto his hair and trickled down his back. It was fine, though – and it _was_ getting on the evening, approaching close to the time when he normally had his baths anyway.

A brilliant light flashed from one side of the dark space, blinding his dim-accustomed eyes as he lifted one arm to shade them from the intense glow streaming inside.

“That time already?” he asked his sister, as she reached towards him.

Two of her massive fingers curled gently around under either of his arms, lifting him delicately off her tongue and out into the room beyond the confines of her mouth once again. Seeing the huge grin on her face, he smiled back.

“What?” she asked, cradling him with her fingers. “Am I really that predictable?”

Phineas rolled his eyes. “Only if-” he was suddenly cut off a powerful blast of warm air that instantly drowned his words beneath itself, that might have threatened to push him onto the floor had it not been for the confining safety of her hand. And then it stopped, and he pushed his hair up out of his eyes, smiling broadly. “You’re in a good mood tonight.”

“As are you,” she shot back teasingly, carrying him across the room to… somewhere. His attention was fully taken up with broad expanse of her face. “What were you thinking about in there anyway?”

“Not much. Just, you know… mainly about before you grew up, I guess?” He paused for a second. “Did it ever occur to you then, when you were drinking that growth potion Ferb and I made, that we might end up like _this_ one day?”

“I didn’t _drink_ it, you know,” she replied. “I poured it on my head. Was just _way_ too excited about the potential for being just a _little_ bit taller back then.” She shook her head wistfully. “But no, I can safely say this never once occurred to me, either. Just the way things work, I guess? I mean, what child _does_ manage to accurately predict their adult life anyway?”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I know that when I first saw the attack of my fifty-foot sister, there were a lot of thoughts running through my head – but I doubt any of them were these.”

“One hundred and eighty two feet,” she reminded him. “And ten inches.”

“My hundred-and-eighty-two-foot sister, then.”

“And?”

“And ten inches. Of course.”

Candace grinned. “That’s more like it, yeah.” Then she stopped, and inhaled deeply, the intake of her breath whipping air past him like a hurricane gale. “At least you remembered to _wear_ sunscreen today – good thing too.”

“Yes, yes I did,” he replied innocently. “Why?”

She raised one eyebrow, smirking. “Boy. You just strip and get ready for your bath.”

Phineas laughed, holding up his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. Whatever you say.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate universes can be such weird and wonderful things, can't they? It's amazing, and this one here is definitely very high up on my list of favorites.


End file.
